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Sadie presses on, “I'm hoping that somebody can help us. Maybe see if he has a microchip or a tattoo. If he's missed.”
“Oh. Oh yeah, sure. We'll get you right in.” The receptionist bobs her head with a sympathetic look in the cat’s direction, like he knows what she’s thinking—like he can read the sympathy on her face.
“Thank you.” Sadie says, pulling my scowl from the receptionist.
We’re guided into a room. It's small, it smells, and I want to be about anywhere but here. The cat in Sadie's arms meows a long and agonized wail. Clearly, he’s not a fan of this place, and in this I share his sentiment. His eyes are wild now as he looks around the room, suddenly energetic enough to wiggle in Sadie’s embrace.
She releases him, bending low to give him a scratch. “It's okay. You're okay.”
The more promises she makes to the cat, the more trouble I know I’m in if he is in fact a dump without a home.
I watch Sadie try and win over the frightened cat with love until a knock sounds on the door. I’m relieved until I see the man who enters. I remember him from high school, but have seen him around town plenty since. Cottonwood Hollow isn’t big, and Robert Weisbrood gets around. He likes new toys, and he’s looking at her right now like she’s a shiny new toy come to town. He hasn’t even seen me yet, even though I know I’m no wallflower. With a face like mine, I’m more the beast you fear in the shadows—and everyone is aware of me as they try not to stare—try not to catch my eye as they sneak glances in my direction, hoping I won’t lunge.
I can’t say I’ve ever liked Robert, and I definitely don’t like the way he’s looking at her right now. Something low and unpleasant burns in my gut, simmering in my chest. Jealousy? Possession? I’ve never felt this for any woman in my life. If I’m being honest, I’d found it thrilling when men looked at Patricia as she stood on my arm.
I’m not the same man that I was, and this woman—Sadie—is mine.
Or I want her to be mine.
Fuck.
“Well, what do we have here?” Robert asks, his eyes sliding over Sadie as she crouches low to pet the cat again. Heat fills his too-pale blue eyes as she teeters, dropping to her knees before she looks up at him to answer.
“We found this little guy on the side of the road,” she explains as Robert looks down at her. I know what he's thinking, what he’s imagining as she stays where she is on her knees, one hand stroking the cat. I want to hit him, but the sound of her voice stops me. “We couldn’t leave him there.”
“Poor little guy,” Robert sympathizes. “You did the right thing, bringing him in.”
“We’re hoping someone misses him. That maybe he has a microchip or tattoo.”
“I can check that for you.” He pulls a device from his pocket and waves it over the cat’s body. The thing doesn’t go off, and Robert looks again to Sadie. “I’m not detecting a chip.”
“A tattoo maybe?” Sadie hasn’t lost hope yet. I never had any to begin with. Again, it’s glaringly clear how opposite we are.
“Let’s get the old guy on the table. I’ll do an exam, and we can go from there.”
“Great.” Sadie is already trying to lift the cat, but he escapes her hands at the last second and she’s forced to turn, giving Robert a nice view of her ass. His eyes drop and fix on her, and I know what he’s seeing because I’ve looked. She’s got a great ass, but I’m not amused.
“There a shelter that can take him if he’s homeless?” I ask, my voice not even remotely friendly.
Robert’s eyes bounce to me for the first time, and I’m fucking stunned that this sucker honestly hadn’t taken notice of me before. His eyes move over my face, lingering on the scars that branded me three years ago. “Unfortunately, the shelters are full. As are the rescues.”
His eyes move from me to Sadie and back again as she lets out a puff of air, finally having caught the slippery little guy, lifting him onto the table.
“Got him,” she tells us what we can clearly see. “Let’s hope someone’s missing him then, shall we?”
“Yes, lets,” Robert agrees. There’s a furrow to his brow, like he can’t understand what a woman like her is doing with a man like me. She’s beautiful. There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t look at her with me and wonder the same. And I hate it. I hate that even though I want her to a point of obsession, I know she’s too good for me.
Robert begins his exam as Sadie continues holding the cat in place. The thing is quivering. Even through my irritation at the way Robert keeps looking at her, I feel sorry for the cat. It’s been through a lot in the last few days, and this isn’t helping.
I’m irritated, but not entirely surprised when Robert, clearly unable to help himself—the weasel—asks, “So, what are you in town for?”
“Me?” Sadie asks, surprised. When Robert nods, smiling at her, she answers, “The holiday.”
“You have family here?” His eyes flick quickly to her face. “I only ask because I’ve lived here my entire life and I’ve never seen you.”
“No family.”
Again, there’s a flash of surprise. But I’m done with this shit. “She’s staying with me, Robert.”
